


Chase the Moon Like Fire

by louisfreckles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, HLSummerFest2020, Louis is a socialite, M/M, New Zealand, Rich Louis, Sort Of, alternative universe, fake identity, mentions of external and internalized homophobia, mentions of war (not explicit but the concept), side Ziam, travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25364257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisfreckles/pseuds/louisfreckles
Summary: "As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”Or, the one where Louis is a rich socialite in the UK post-WWI, who is stressed and tired of his demanding life. He chooses to go missing, leaving everyone back home to speculate whether he died or has been kidnapped, and sets sail across the oceans, arriving in Auckland, New Zealand, in search of summertime and freedom. What he doesn't look for but finds anyway, is a boy who seems reluctant to let him in, but ends up changing all of Louis' plans.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41
Collections: HL Summer Fest 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the 2020 HL Summer Fic Fest, thank you so much for having me! I'm particularly excited since this is my first fic ever being posted on ao3, hopefully the first of many more!
> 
> I'd like to give big big thanks to my friends for being my betas and helping make this fic what it is, and for all of your support, I couldn't have done this without you all- this fic is for you.
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you do, please leave kudos and comments to let me know what you liked!
> 
> Enjoy your reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”
> 
> Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”
> 
> Or, the one where Louis is a rich socialite in the UK post-WWI, who is stressed and tired of his demanding life. He chooses to go missing, leaving everyone back home to speculate whether he died or has been kidnapped, and sets sail across the oceans, arriving in Auckland, New Zealand, in search of summertime and freedom. What he doesn't look for but finds anyway, is a boy who seems reluctant to let him in, but ends up changing all of Louis' plans.

Louis climbed out of Oli’s car as it came to a halt by a forest. He was dressed heavily, in a way that hid his features and would hopefully prevent people from recognizing him. The sky was a stormy, dark gray, with hardly any sunlight to bring life to the muted colours around them, but the rain seemed to cease just to make Louis’ escape a little less frustrating.

Some of the cold from outside seemed to fight its way through the several layers on Louis’ body. As much as his clothes tried to keep him warm, and the nervous feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach made his insides feel on fire, the cold would occasionally nip at him as if teasing him with the reminder that he was still in the UK, where it was winter. It didn’t matter much, though, because the place he was headed towards was far warmer.

“Go,” Oli said. “I’ll take care of the scene."

“Swear to me you won’t tell anyone?” Louis asked one last time. Oli was his best friend, and since he lived in the estate, they practically grew up together. They may not have gone to the same school, considering Oli was the son of one of the employees, but Louis liked him better than all of the phony, rich kids in school. Eventually, he had become more like a brother to Louis. That was the reason he chose Oli to assist him, and no one else- he knew he could trust him, but now, he had to make sure just one more time.

“I swear. Now go, before your ship sails without you.”

Louis nodded, “I am eternally grateful, Oli. If and when I come back- anything you want, just ask and you shall receive, I promise.”

“Go!” Oli laughed.

Louis laughed along, waving as he walked away, still without turning, “see you around, mate!”

And then he turned his back to his best friend, to his family, to his home, the place where he grew up, and went to find his own way. Towards the summer he had always dreamed of.

Louis made it to the port in time, which helped ease some of the anxiety that had built in his chest. All the way up to the very moment where he handed his fake documents to a man, he wasn’t sure if what he was doing was right. It was something that plagued his mind the entire journey from the location Oli dropped him off at, to the port, and continued to busy him as he settled in his cabin on the ship.

He knew what it meant to leave his family and all of his responsibilities behind. He knew how selfish it was of him to just up and leave, considering how he had major responsibilities for all of Doncaster, as the Heir to the Lord and Lady, and considering how close he’d always been with his family. He knew it would hurt them tremendously, and yet he let his feet carry him onto a ship that would take him to the other side of the globe.

His heart was heavy, his logical brain begging him to get off the ship and go back home before anyone takes notice that he’s missing. But he’d been smothered by every aspect of his life as a wealthy socialite in the UK for about two decades, now. He was a teenager when the Great War occurred, and only really felt stress during those years. It had been years since then, but the same stress didn’t seem to let go of him. He needed to get away from it all.

He needed one summer, just one, where no one knew his name. Where no one held him to any standards or expected any specific behaviour from him. He needed a fresh start.

So, amid the British winter, his destination was someplace where it was now summer.

Time seemed to speed by, and suddenly Louis could hear the ship’s horn blaring, and could feel the ship move. Slight panic filled him from his chest to the top of his head and to the very tips of his fingers and toes, but he inhaled deeply and willed it away.

There was no going back now.


	2. Chapter I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”
> 
> Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”
> 
> Or, the one where Louis is a rich socialite in the UK post-WWI, who is stressed and tired of his demanding life. He chooses to go missing, leaving everyone back home to speculate whether he died or has been kidnapped, and sets sail across the oceans, arriving in Auckland, New Zealand, in search of summertime and freedom. What he doesn't look for but finds anyway, is a boy who seems reluctant to let him in, but ends up changing all of Louis' plans.

After over a month at sea, which somehow felt longer than the rest of his life, Louis finally arrived in Auckland, New Zealand. Exhausted from the long travel, under conditions he was certainly not used to, he grabbed his luggage and made his way off the ship, moving among the swarms of people all with someplace to be. He was more than prepared to take the first housing option he was offered, be it a proper hotel room or a pit in the ground, have a good, long shower, and call it a day.

The moment he stepped out onto the deck to get off the large, populated vehicle, however, the sun shone directly into his eyes. It forced him to squint and tilt the rim of his straw boat hat forward to try and shield his eyes, which have hardly ever been anywhere outside of Yorkshire in his life, so they weren’t used to anything other than the British gray, and reminded him that the time was somewhere around midday here- still hours away from his desired bedtime.

He could feel the changes in climate as early in his trip as when he was still on the ship, crossing oceans on its way to his guaranteed summer. He could feel the effect those blunt contrasts had on him; the way the sun warmed his skin and made him see every color more vibrant than ever before in his life as if the rays of sunlight helped him shrug off every bit of dreary, glum English stress that weighed him down.

Although he was feeling a bit grumpy from the lack of sleep and the grungy feeling that was residue from a long trip, he could not resist the brightness of everything around him, the way everything seemed more lively in the warm sunlight, and everyone seemed happier than back home.

Once he was out of the crowds hurrying about for whatever reason they had, his eyes scanned the street just off the platform. Out of all of the different vehicles and people moving in front of him, the one thing that caught his eye was a young lad, dressed in a white button-down, which was tucked neatly into his tan coloured tweed check trousers and partly covered by a dark brown vest, ringlets of chocolate brown hair peeking out from beneath his flat cap.

The curly lad seemed to be casually conversing with a blonde bloke who was in an attire resembling his partner’s, only he had his cap tucked under his arm and his gray vest was unbuttoned, falling loosely around his body, unlike his friend’s vest, which was buttoned and clinging to his torso. The blonde’s cheeks were adorned with large splotches of bright red, Louis reckoned it was due to the high temperature, as he could also feel the sun on every inch of his face. Or maybe it was just the way the lad was.

The duo was close enough for Louis to hear their laughter and some bits of chatter, but not quite close enough to make sense of anything they were saying. Without thinking much of it, Louis found himself moving towards them.

“Pardon me, gentlemen!”

The two turned to look at him, the laughter they previously shared settling into easy, polite smiles, the blonde crossing his arms loosely over his middle, and the curly-haired one looping his thumbs in his belt loops.

“May we help you?” The latter asked in a low drawl.

“I don’t mean to be a bother, I was just wondering,” Louis started, unsure of what level of politeness he should address them in if he wanted to seem more like them and less as if he’d been trained in etiquettes his entire young and adolescent life, “would you happen to know a good guest house around the city? I’d just arrived on this ship from Britain and could use some directions to someplace I could stay at. If you don’t mind sparing me a bit of your time, that is.”

The boys shared a look before giving Louis a different, weird look, one that caused him to feel a bit nervous and insecure about the long, winded way he chose to word his simple request. He couldn’t help needing to explain himself and try to be as little of a burden as he could, when growing up with parents, who were always busy with matters of high importance, and estate workers, who were often short-tempered from having to clean up and look after seven children and their shenanigans, always meant he had better have a darn good reason to try and inconvenience anyone around him.

The curly-haired lad blinked at Louis before he finally spoke, after what felt like ages.

“My parents run a motel downtown if that’s what you’re looking for. I was about to head back there soon, anyway. I wouldn’t mind taking a passenger.”

“Oh, it’s really okay if you just gave me some direction,” Louis said hurriedly, “I wouldn’t want to cause you more trouble than I already have.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” Curly chuckled, glancing at his friend who was laughing along with him. “Come with me. Nialler, come over when you’re off?”

“You know I will.” The blonde said cheerfully, turning the other way.

Louis followed the taller boy until they came up in front of a car.

“My name is Harry, by the way, Harry styles,” the lad spoke as he held his hand out for Louis’s luggage, “sorry, I haven’t introduced myself properly. May I take your luggage?”

Louis allowed him to take his belongings and load them onto the car.

“What’s your name?”

At first, Louis was taken aback slightly. Harry was a bit more direct than Louis was used to when talking to a stranger. Once he recovered, calculations began running through his head. He didn’t have his actual ID with him; if he provided his real name and someone was to look at his fake ID and realize that something was off, a lot could go wrong. However, keeping up a lie of being someone he wasn’t could go very wrong as well, and required a lot of effort to remember a made-up background story, even if his chosen first name was easy to remember since it was his real middle name. Then again, a new identity could potentially open up a whole new world of opportunities for him. It could set him free more than he already had in mind.

Although he felt like he’d been weighing out pros and cons for ages, in real life it was only a matter of split seconds before he said, “Uh, William. William Poulston. But please, call me William.”

“Alright, it’s a pleasure to meet you, William.” Harry now held his hand out towards him. “Feel free to call me Harry, I’m not much for formalities.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Louis offered a polite smile and shook his hand, “the pleasure is mine.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Louis watched the town pass by them as Harry drove. Warm breeze stroked his face and made his heart feel lighter and freer than it had in quite some time. At the same time, however, the feeling reminded him of how tired he was. All he felt like doing was closing his eyes and falling asleep right there.

“Where did you say your ship come in from?” The voice beside him asked.

“Uh…” Louis forced himself to snap out of his small daze and tried yet again to calculate if he should tell the truth. At this point, he could be anything he chose to be. This could be difficult. “England.”

“Ah, Great Britain.” Harry nodded to himself. “What is it like?”

“Cold,” Louis said simply, “boring.”

“Oh,” Harry said, for lack of a better reply. “Must have been quite a trip to get here.”

“Indeed,” Louis confirmed. “My time at sea felt longer than my entire life.”

“I can only imagine. I’ve never left Auckland.” Harry admitted. “Here we are.”

At that, Louis’ eyes snapped up to see the small stone building standing in front of them, with a slate roof and a sign that read “Motel”. By the time he realized how long he’d been staring at the building, Harry was already finished unloading his baggage. The lad walked towards Louis’ side of the car and opened the door.

“Need help?” He offered in a tone that sounded a little bit annoyed.

“Oh. Sorry. Thank you,” Louis said in a rush to get out of the car, moving right towards the entrance and leaving Harry with the luggage and a growing annoyance.

While Harry was bringing the suitcases inside, Louis was checking in at the front desk, where Anne, Harry’s mother, currently stood, providing him service. She smiled sweetly at her son as he approached with their guest’s luggage.

“Harry, dear, there you are. Why don’t you show this fine young man where he’ll be staying?” She extended the key in her hand towards him. He plucked it from her hand without a word and turned towards the stairs, the older lad following behind him.

“Here, this is your room,” Harry said as he put down Louis’ luggage at the door so he could unlock it. If it were someone else, less oblivious and entitled than Louis was, they might have caught on to the tiredness that was now in Harry’s voice. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Wait,” Louis said as the curly lad made to leave, “what am I supposed to do with my belongings?”

“Have you never seen a wardrobe before?” Harry asked, even more annoyed. “Just put your stuff the way you like them to be.”

“Could you help me, please?” Louis asked, pulling a few notes from his wallet and holding them out to Harry. “Here. For your burden.”

Harry looked at the money for a moment. It was not uncommon for guests to offer him more money in exchange for extra service, and it was usually a good deal as he needed the money for his future. Eventually, he accepted the notes and stuffed them into his pocket before stepping inside the room to help Louis unpack his belongings.

However, as it turned out, “helping” his new guest actually meant unpacking all of his luggage and putting its contents away while Louis made himself comfortable on top of the queen-sized bed, giving out orders under the guise of requests and preferences.

Even as far as his wardrobe, despite seemingly not knowing a single thing about how to arrange it himself, the strange new guest still seemed to have opinions aplenty on how he wanted the job to be done.

When the stranger was finally appeased, Harry thought he was finished with his extra work, and could finally tend to other jobs that needed to be done around the place, ones that were probably much more worth his while, but he was mistaken. Apparently, his guest owned more items that he didn’t know how to put away himself.

Once Harry was confident that he was finished, and his guest thanked him with an annoyingly sweet and polite smile, Harry left his room, closing the door behind him at the man’s request. He didn’t remember being more annoyed at any other guest they’ve ever had before. 

But as he reached into his pocket to count his tip, he realized that anger wasn’t the only thing “William” gave him in bigger amounts than any other guest. He had never seen such a generous tip. Something in the back of his mind told him he should wonder about all the strange things he’d noticed about this man on just the first day, but he shut the voice down. The man was so entitled that it really ticked Harry off, and he couldn’t find it in him to care much about anything related to him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As time went by, Louis only seemed to manage to tick Harry off more and more. The lad would constantly be pestering Harry with weird requests and didn’t seem to understand that Harry wasn’t working for him.

It was the same behaviour that he had going on since the moment he’d arrived, and as Harry later found out, the fixing of his wardrobe was only the beginning, even for that day.

The first thing Harry saw him do was go downstairs with the sole intention of asking Gemma, who also worked at the motel and, for the most part, split the job of tending the reception with Anne, “who would be coming to call me in time for lunch?”

Harry, who was cleaning the waiting area, watched as his sister did her very best not to laugh in his face as she said, “I’m sorry, sir, lunchtime has already ended. We’re slightly too short in staff to have anyone going around calling guests for meals, but you have the regular mealtimes here.” She gestured to one of the small signs that stood on the reception counter, "As well as on the information brochure in your room.”

Louis examined the sign. “I see. My apologies. Since I’ve missed my meal, would there be anyone willing to bring me something to eat? I’m willing to pay extra.”

Gemma looked over at Harry, stifling a laugh at the irritated expression on his face. “Hazza, do you mind?”

Louis spun around to look at Harry, and either Harry was so lucky as to manage to seem as if he weren’t eavesdropping, or Louis was just that oblivious, but the man didn’t seem to notice how annoyed Harry was. “Oh, Harold. It would be so kind of you. I’ll pay you more than I did for putting away my belongings. Please?”

“It’s Harry,” he corrected before he considered the deal he was extended, trying to avoid the baffled expression on his sister’s face. He was doing this for the money. “Alright. I will bring you lunch.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Louis said and passed Harry the money on his way back to his room.

“Not much sentiment for money if he’s willing to pay before he got the service,” Harry said when their guest was out of earshot, looking at the notes before stuffing them in his pocket with the other ones.

“You put away his belongings?” Gemma asked, in a tone that matched the expression she still had on her face.

“Don’t judge me.” Harry defended himself. “He pays well.”

Later that day, after making it successfully to dinnertime, during which he sat at the table and waited for someone to serve his food until he realized he was supposed to get it himself, Louis approached the reception desk once again, asking if someone would come and fix him a bath. Harry was sent to fulfill the mission and filled the tub in Louis’ room, with the man standing over him and giving instructions yet again. Once more, he left after his job was done, with a generous tip tucked into his pocket.

This went on for a while, in addition to an obnoxious new habit that Louis had taken to; addressing Harry as “Harold”. At first, Harry corrected him each time, but it seemed to only fuel him, and the more Harry let it show that it pissed him off, the more his guest seemed to enjoy calling him that.

Every day, Harry was sent to take care of another request made by the one particular guest who seemed completely unable to care for himself. It was growing more annoying by the day, and Harry started feeling like it wasn’t worth the money. So much so, that he began complaining to his parents whenever they sent him on another “William mission”. His parents, however, were more blinded by the money the man was offering than he was and told him to do it anyway. It caused a few arguments, in which Harry never won.

The thing that almost made Harry snap was when he started being asked to take Louis on tours around town, to show him different places and help him become more familiar with his surroundings. He was basically turning into this stuck up guest’s personal driver and tour guide, and he couldn’t stand it. Not with the lad’s weird obsession with the beach, and especially not when Louis seemed to think of their trips as them hanging out together. As friends.

After a while of trying to put up with all of the little, annoying things about his peculiar guest, and trying to keep his head from exploding of rage, he received something that had the potential of becoming very good news for him.

“Harry, darling,” Anne called him from behind the reception counter one day, as he passed through the entrance hall on his way from one job to another. He approached.

“Yes?”

“I need you to go see Mr. Poulston.” Harry immediately opened his mouth to protest. “Before you complain,” Anne held up her hand, “he’s been paying by the day and he’s behind on several payments now. He knows you best so I need you to look into it.”

“Wait. Does that mean he might have to leave?” Harry tried to mask his excitement.

“Maybe, if he cannot make the next payments,” Anne confirmed. “But he still has to make up for what he already owes.”

And so Harry delivered the message, keeping his glee to himself until he left to continue working.

Once he was finished with another job, he passed through the entrance hall again, only to find his least favourite guest practically begging to his mother.

“Please, I know I’ve missed some payments, but you can’t evict me! I’ll have nowhere to go! I must’ve used up all my money, I don’t know how that happened, but I don’t even have enough to get on a ship back home now! Please, I’ll do anything, just let me stay!”

As much as he wanted the man gone, even Harry couldn’t deny he felt a little bad for him. Making a show of brooming so Louis wouldn’t think he was only there to listen, he mumbled, “Maybe you should get a job.”

“What are you _on_ about?!” Louis practically burst. The need to say _“Do you know who I am?”_ smothering him, but he knew that was the whole point. No one was supposed to know who he was. “I hardly even know this town! Where would I get a job?”

“Alright, settle down,” Anne said calmingly, “I’m sure we can work something out. You can work around here, we could use more staff, but you’ll have to do some extra jobs to make up for the payments you’ve missed. As to future payments, they’ll be taken out of your salary. Does that sound fair?”

“Yes, very much so, thank you,” Louis said, finally soothed, “just one problem, though, I don’t believe I’m skilled to work around here.”

“Harry will teach you everything you need to know.” Harry dropped the broom from his hand. He did not see this coming around to bite him in his behind.

At the sound of the broom cluttering to the floor, Louis spun around and flashed Harry a sweet smile.

“Guess we’re co-workers now, Harold.”


	3. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”
> 
> Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”
> 
> Or, the one where Louis is a rich socialite in the UK post-WWI, who is stressed and tired of his demanding life. He chooses to go missing, leaving everyone back home to speculate whether he died or has been kidnapped, and sets sail across the oceans, arriving in Auckland, New Zealand, in search of summertime and freedom. What he doesn't look for but finds anyway, is a boy who seems reluctant to let him in, but ends up changing all of Louis' plans.

“Why isn’t my broom sweeping as well as yours is?” Louis asked frustratedly. “I think I got a broken broom.”

“All of our brooms are perfectly good,” Harry said, turning his head to see what was Louis’ problem now, “you’re holding it wrong.”

Harry approached the shorter lad, adjusting his hold on the broom. As he put his hands on top of Louis’ to make the adjustments, their eyes met. They held each other’s gaze for a split second before Harry averted his eyes, trying to push down the strange feeling that erupted inside him at their gaze and contact.

Once Louis was holding his broom correctly, he tried sweeping again, and seemed elated to discover that the broom was now cooperating. Harry moved on to cleaning the windows, leaving his co-worker to the task of sweeping the floors, now that he knew how.

“Have you never used a broom before?” Harry wondered.

“Uh… not really.” Louis confessed. “Always had stuff cleaned up for me.”

“Of course,” Harry sighed, shaking his head, “the only boy with five sisters for most of your life. You must’ve been pretty special.”

After over a week of working almost exclusively together, considering Harry had to teach Louis a lot of things, it was only to be expected that they would get around to talking. It didn’t make Harry like his new co-worker any better, but jobs were less boring and uncomfortable when they weren’t done in awkward, tense silence.

“I was,” Louis smiled as he reminisced. “But I’m also the eldest, so I had a lot of responsibility for my siblings. It sort of evened out over time.”

Harry hummed.

“Can you show me around town some more tonight?” Louis requested. “I would really like to see some of the nightlife around here.”

“Uh, sorry,” Harry said nervously, “I’m busy tonight, but maybe some other time, yeah?”

“Sure,” was all Louis said.

Much later, when they were both off for the day, Louis made his way downstairs, with the intention of going out and exploring Auckland’s nightlife on his own. He stopped halfway down the staircase and pressed himself up against the wall to hide when he heard Harry’s voice say his fake name.

“Do we know when he’s leaving?” Harry asked. “He can’t just stay here forever. He has a home, a family. He must just be here on vacation. Did he give you any clue as to when he’d be gone?”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don’t know,” Anne’s voice said, “I’ve told you before, he pays by the day, each day he’s here, he pays for it until he decides to go.”

“You never do that with any other guest.”

“I know, but he had a lot of money, so we made a special deal, and it was profitable for a while. We had to consider that, for the benefit of you and your sister.” Anne sighed. “Look, I know you don’t like him, but try to be nice. He is a little quirky, but you might change your mind about him. After all, you work together now, you shouldn’t waste that time with negative feelings, you’ll be miserable.”

With tears in his eyes, Louis blocked out the sound of Harry’s response, and as he saw him walk away, he swallowed his hurt and continued walking towards the exit.

After wandering around for a while, milling Harry and Anne’s words about him in his head, Louis found a pub. He examined the front a bit before stepping inside. He sat at the bar and ordered himself a pint of beer.

He drank his beer slowly, still pondering what he heard. Here he was thinking he and Harry were becoming friends, that Harry was warming up to him, that they were sharing little stories and facts about themselves, and it was helping them grow closer.

Apparently, he was wrong.

“Hey handsome,” a husky voice came from beside him, “why so sad?”

“Sorry,” Louis chugged the last of his beer, “I’d love to chat, but I was just leaving.”

Louis began searching his pockets, but couldn’t gather enough change to pay for his drink.

“No money?” The man beside him asked. “Why don’t you let me pay for your drink?”

Before Louis could argue, the stranger handed the bartender the necessary amount, without taking his eyes off of Louis. “What’s your name?”

“William.”

“Pleasure to meet you, William, I’m Malcolm.” He held out his hand, and Louis shook it. “May I just say, you are quite stunning. Can I take you someplace? I think you might like it.”

Louis looked at the man, with his blue eyes and his dark moustache, pondering his offer for a moment before nodding and leaving the pub with him, a pleasant conversation forming between them as they walked.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Louis looked around the dim-lit space, wide-eyed and gape-mouthed. The scenery was taking over his senses, with the loud chatter over foxtrot music ringing in his ears, and the sharp smell of booze making his nose tingle. People were looking at him, duos of men sitting close together within their larger circles, whispering and giggling with their eyes watching him in amusement, or a couple that danced by giving him a similar look. With the expression of pure shock etched on his face, he figured he was conveying what he was feeling, the paralyzing sense of being so out of place in this scene, mixed with the overpowering yearning to belong to it.

The arm hooked to his stirred him in a different direction than the one his feet were carrying him to. He opened his mouth, wanting to tell Malcolm how the song that the band was playing reminded him of when he was little, how he and Lottie would sneak into the lounging room almost every night after he was done with his footie practice and she was done with her dance lesson, and she would teach him how to dance the waltz and foxtrot and tango while humming the appropriate music.

The nostalgic story died on his tongue, however, when he realized it could very well give him away. Not every family could afford to send their children to take lessons that would help them acquire and master a hobby to a nearly-professional level, he knew that much. Especially not a family like his, with seven children who all received training in their chosen pastime hobby, as well as after-school studies with personal tutors, on top of studying in private schools that were strictly for children of their social class.

Louis closed his mouth. He figured it was better not to share that sort of information about his life, not with Malcolm, not with anyone. He did not want to spark questions about his past, questions he would have to provide logical explanations to, and to navigate around in order not to blow up the entire new image he’s worked so hard on making for himself.

Chatter from nearby snapped him out of his thoughts, he blinked twice before focusing on the group of men Malcolm seemed to be talking to. From the way in which they talked and laughed, and the way the dim light above them allowed him to see their flushed red faces, Louis realized they must’ve had quite a bit to drink. They all seemed friendly enough, perhaps a bit too friendly, and spoke with such thick accents, Louis couldn’t decipher what they were saying, for the most part, and the parts that he understood were mostly words he didn’t appreciate hearing.

Louis stood quietly in his place, both hands now clasped in front of himself, a tight smile on his face. He gave up on trying to understand the nearly unintelligible, drunken speech of Malcolm’s friends, and instead allowed his eyes to wander around the place yet again.

He noticed that the band had progressed from music that reminded him of his childhood to newer, Jazzy tunes, the men on the dance floor, dressed in their evening attires of black-and-white tuxedos much like the rest of the place’s residents, himself included, changing the flow and style of their dances accordingly.

Louis’ eyes scanned over the groups of people sitting in the designated areas scattered around the place, noting that some have neglected their topcoats, rolled up the sleeves of their white shirts, and even removed their ties. Some of them had vests hugging their waist, while some had braces stretched over their shoulders. Louis could see why they would choose to dress down and drape their extra layers over backs of chairs, given the warmth that enveloped him the moment he stepped foot inside. He was certain that if he had danced, or gotten as drunk as Malcolm’s friends were, he would have done the same.

“William?” It was the turn of a familiar voice to bring him back into reality, and in the split second his head turned on his neck to look for the source of that voice, he managed to catch himself wondering, when exactly did he manage to get so used to being called by his middle name that it now had the power to get his attention over every other noise in the place?

His gaze landed on a curly mop of hair and a pair of large, round eyes that something in the back of his head recalled were usually green, even though it was too dark to see in the current setting they were in, and the person was too far away.

“Harold?” He asked, the left side of his mouth rising, a warm feeling settling at the bottom of his lungs and in the back of his head from coming across a familiar face. While he despised the thought of seeing Harry right now, after he’d been so hurt by his words, in such a strange setting it was actually comforting.

He turned his face to Malcolm with a polite, “Please excuse me, just a few moments,” and once he was excused, he walked over to the group of people Harry was sitting with, pints of beer, some empty, some half-full, on the table in front of them. Harry rose from his seat to meet him a few steps away from his friends, where neither they nor Louis’ group, could hear them. “What are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Harry returned the question, sounding significantly less delighted than Louis did. With his face set in a slightly harsh expression, his brows furrowed, he lowered his voice to ask, “do you know what kind of place this is?”

“Do _you_ know what kind of place this is?” Louis’ eyebrows rose. Harry crossed his arms, Louis noting that he was one of the men who had taken to removing his topcoat and rolling up his sleeves, the braces hooked over his shoulders and into his tailored trousers suited his young, boyish face, despite the way his rolled-up sleeves accentuated his muscles.

“I asked first.”

“Well, I asked the first question first.” Louis challenged.

Harry sighed. “I’m here with friends,” he stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to his group, “how did you even find out about this place?”

“I’m here with… a guy. Sort of.” Louis gestured, and Harry followed, twisting around to look at the group of men. “The one who’s standing. Since you said you were going to be too busy tonight to show me around some more, I figured I’d let you have your own time. I can only imagine I’ve been a bit of a burden since I arrived.” He missed the small roll of Harry’s eyes. “So I thought I’d try being independent and found the pub all by myself, then realized I had no money on my person. Then Malcolm showed up and offered to pay for my drink and we chatted for a bit. He learned that I’ve been here for quite some time now and still don’t really know any good places to go to mingle or unwind, so he brought me here.”

“Does he…” Harry started, trailing off before changing his question, “is he… are you…?”

Louis pursed his lips to hold back a laugh, “I figured it was implied?”

“Huh.”

“Yes. Good talk.” Louis offered a playful smile.

“Sorry.” Harry rushed to say, suddenly looking bashful, a contrast to his previous self-assured exterior; one of a person who felt like he was the only one familiar with his surroundings, and therefore, superior. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I’m just... well, surprised. And confused.”

“That’s quite alright,” Louis assured, “I’m just as surprised, myself, to see you here. If you don’t mind me asking, do your parents…?”

“No. No,” the response was quick, a dry chuckle following, “no way. Never.” Harry paled suddenly. “You won’t…”

“Of course not.” Louis quickly shook his head. “It is none of my business.”

“Thank you.”

“Absolutely, don’t mention it.” He glanced over Harry’s shoulder. “Your friends seem lovely, whatever happened to that blonde fellow who always visits at the motel?”

“Niall?” Harry asked, chuckling. “Are you being serious right now?”

Louis laughed. “Not his scene, I suppose?”

“Definitely not. We go to the pub, mostly. He knows I hang out here, though he’s never heard of this place before I told him. He’s met the lads,” Harry glanced to his friends, “but he’d rather keep our meetings at the pub.”

“Understandable,” Louis said as he looked around the place some more, and Harry hummed.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your date?” Louis’ eyes moved back to see a cheeky grin stretching the left side of Harry’s mouth up further than the right, both dimples showing. Up close, Louis could see the deep green of his eyes much better. “Kind of rude of you to just leave to go talk to someone else.”

“You’re right.” Louis sighed before offering a small smile. “I’ll see you around, then?”

“If you’re lucky.”

Louis was stuck in his spot, unfocused gaze set on Harry’s retreating form. What was that supposed to mean? Louis shook his head with a confused smile before returning to Malcolm’s side.

“Where have you been?” The taller man questioned, his breath already smelling of alcohol and his standing posture less firm.

“Just spotted someone I knew,” Louis explained with an innocent smile, “sorry I took so long.”

“That’s fine, love.” Louis’ nose scrunched in the slightest at the name, combined with the strong scent that brushed his nose with every word, topped off with the feeling of an arm slung around his shoulders. As foreign and unwelcome as he sometimes felt near Harry, especially after being so offended by what he had heard him say, at the moment, Louis felt more like searching for the younger lad than standing awkwardly around drunken strangers.

Eventually, Louis ended up the only somewhat sober one around a group of people so drunk they didn’t seem to even know who they were. After a while of drunken Malcolm hardly even acknowledging his presence, and of catching his eyes often drifting to search for Harry and his friends, he figured his date probably wouldn’t even notice if he were gone.

And so he found himself leaving the group of piss-drunk males and standing in front of the table at which Harry sat with his friends. The first to notice him was the guy sitting in front of him, his skin slightly darker than the other two’s and his hair raven black. He was strikingly handsome and had another handsome fellow pressed against his side with his arm thrown around the first guy’s shoulders.  
  


On his other side, sat Harry, who, when his friend’s gaze moved to Louis, turned his head to look at him. He said nothing.

“Can I join you?” Louis asked shyly.

“Who are you?” The black-haired lad asked.

Louis opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Harry beat him to it. “His name is William, he works with me at the motel. William, these are Zayn,” he gestured to the raven-haired bloke, “and Liam,” he gestured to the guy clinging to Zayn, “do you mind if he joins us, lads?”

“Not at all,” Liam said with a kind smile, and Louis smiled back, sitting with them.

In this company, Louis managed to fit into the conversation. Liam and Zayn were nice to him, and eventually, even Harry no longer gave off any hostile energy. They all had some more to drink, and at some point, Liam and Zayn got up to dance.

Through their conversation, Louis learned that Liam and Zayn had been together for quite some time, but neither of them was out to their families. They knew all of the best, hidden locations in Auckland for lads such as themselves to hang out, whether it was for couples on dates or for individuals to mingle.

He also learned that Harry had met Zayn first, when he used to bartend at the pub Harry would visit with Niall. They went there often enough to become friendly with Zayn, enough for Harry and Zayn to realize what they had in common, before even Niall, Harry’s childhood friend, knew that about him. Then, after Zayn left for a job in illustration, so he could do what he really loved- art, his friendship with Harry grew even stronger, he introduced him to Liam, who he was already dating, and the three of them began hanging out together.

Harry and Louis set in silence for a while before Harry stood up, “Dance?” was all he asked.

Louis’ eyes rose to see Harry standing in front of him, his eyes on Louis and his hand stretched out to him. Louis’ heart fluttered. He’d danced with people before, mostly family or nice young girls who were, in his parents’ eyes, potential brides for him when the time came. No one’s ever made him feel quite like when Harry invited him to dance.

So he took his hand, and they danced. They danced until they couldn’t tell how long it’s been, and until they could no longer find Liam and Zayn. They danced until Louis forgot about Malcolm altogether. All he knew was Harry with his green eyes and ringlet curls, Harry’s body against his and his hand in his own and his lips so pink Louis wondered if they tasted like cherries.

“Is dancing the only thing you do know how to do?” Harry asked teasingly, a small smile on his lips.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Louis chuckled.

“Maybe…” Harry said, voice playful and inviting, and Louis didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up.

Louis laughed. “You dance very well, too.”

“Thank you.”

Despite the music playing in their ears, between the two of them was a deafening silence. Louis’ heart was hammering as he weighed out whether or not he should kiss Harry. Before he got to a decision, though, Harry was already there, soft lips brushing carefully against Louis’. Harry almost pulled away, but then Louis was leaning in and kissing him back, longer.

They danced closer, Harry’s head found its way to Louis’ shoulder, and they said nothing for the rest of the night. Not even when they went back to the dark corner where they previously sat so they could spend a while longer just kissing. Not even as they walked side by side back to the motel. The only word whispered between them was “goodnight” as they parted ways in the entrance hall.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since that night, Harry and Louis grow unexpectedly closer. This time, they were inseparable even when working on things that Louis had already mastered. They would request to either work together or as close as possible to each other, and always worked the same shifts, which led to them talking almost non-stop as they worked, cracking jokes and exchanging stories. And whenever they had a moment, they snuck into a service closet or some other hiding spot for a makeout session.

They were extremely secretive about the nature of their relationship. To anyone on the outside, they had just miraculously become extremely good friends. Despite the fact the Harry and Louis spent quite some time together with Niall, Zayn and Liam now, even they didn’t know that the two were anything more than platonic. They liked it better that way. Their little world was theirs and theirs alone.

They grew so close that Harry would sit with Louis at meals, and occasionally would invite Louis to sit with him and his family, which always had Louis reminiscing back to dinners with his family- he would never admit out loud that Anne reminded him a lot of his mother, or that Gemma, as well as Harry’s relationship with her, made him miss every single one of his siblings dearly.

Harry no longer even complained when Louis asked him to take him places, though he did teach him how to do and fold his own laundry and fix his own bath, so he wouldn’t have to ask. And if any of those lessons in the privacy of Louis’ room turned into another makeout session, it wasn’t their fault.

Anne was happy that the two of them were finally getting along, though they were both certain she wouldn’t be as happy if she knew that they even shared a bed sometimes, as rarely as that happened.

“Dear Lord, I’m exhausted.” Louis collapsed on the bottom stair after a day full of strenuous chores. They washed the floors, painted walls, changed sheets on beds in every room that required it, cleaned the top shelves, carried and put away massive amounts of groceries, and to top it all off, swept the chimneys.

“I know,” Harry said, “I could use a nap.”

“I could use a foot massage,” Louis said absentmindedly.

Harry gave him a weird look.

“What?” Louis asked.

“Have you ever had a foot massage?”

Louis was lost for words. If there was anything he hated now, it was lying to Harry. But if he were being honest, he never would have thought Harry would come to mean so much to him, and now it was something that had to be done. “Yeah, my sister, Phoebe, gives great ones. We all love having her rub our feet.”

Harry chuckled. “That’s cute.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed.

Every now and again, his family came up in his conversations with Harry, and it was nothing he could avoid. He tried to limit the stories that he shared about them, pick and choose ones that would make sense for the character that Harry knew him to be. If he couldn’t do that and was already far too deep, he would occasionally change some details to make the stories believable, but he wasn’t proud of that.

Such was this moment. None of his sisters voluntarily gave out foot massages, when they could afford to hire someone professional to do that. It wasn’t often that they did, but Louis would be lying if he said he’d never received a professional foot massage.

However, the mention of his little sister prompted a wave of longing that always washed over him when he thought of or talked about his family. He couldn’t deny he missed his siblings. 

He missed watching the little ones run around in their beautiful, vast garden, which his parents employed a gardener to tend to. He missed nagging their nanny until she let him tag along to pick up his little twin sisters from school, and he missed Phoebe and Daisy’s little friends fawning over their “cute big brother”.

Louis missed teasing Lottie at any chance he was given and having countless little spats with her, only to always end up cuddling by the fireplace in their lounging room until they both were sound asleep. And he missed doing jigsaw puzzles with Felicity in their big library until she’s had enough and moved to the chaise to read a book. He remembered how he would always watch her for a while, savoring the moment, before he’d bring some of the others to help annoy her until she complained and they got in trouble.

He also remembered how elated he felt when Doris and Ernest were born. Finally, he wasn’t the only boy, not counting his father who was almost always too busy. Louis had practically taken Ernest under his wing and swore to teach him everything he knew, despite the child being far more shy and reserved than Louis ever was.

“Well… I mean, if your feet really hurt… I suppose I could rub them for you.”

Louis’ eyes snapped to his side to find Harry flashing him a cheeky grin, an amused smile of his own growing on his face before he made a show of holding his own foot.

“Oh, really, they really hurt.”

Harry laughed. “Come on,” and rushed upstairs and into Louis’ room, Louis on his toes.


	4. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”
> 
> Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”
> 
> Or, the one where Louis is a rich socialite in the UK post-WWI, who is stressed and tired of his demanding life. He chooses to go missing, leaving everyone back home to speculate whether he died or has been kidnapped, and sets sail across the oceans, arriving in Auckland, New Zealand, in search of summertime and freedom. What he doesn't look for but finds anyway, is a boy who seems reluctant to let him in, but ends up changing all of Louis' plans.

“Mind explaining this,  William?” Harry’s voice snapped Louis out of the little fantasy world he’d been sucked into by the book he was reading, at the same time as the younger lad’s hand slammed a newspaper on top of the open book. “If that’s even your real name.”

“What are you  _ on _ about?” Louis asked, baffled, but grabbed the newspaper so he could examine it with furrowed brows.

The first thing he noticed was the hardest to miss- a black and white print of him from the chest up, dressed in his most formal attire. He remembered it was taken a certain day, when they had some royal visitors from London coming over in order to discuss with their parents on matters such as how Doncaster specifically, and Yorkshire in general, were doing, a few years after the war. Louis remembered how his parents had been so nervous about the visitation, everyone was to be on their absolute best behaviour, and his mother had hired the local photographer for the entire day, so they could have pictures of their family in their finest outfits, as well as documentation of the event.

Next, Louis’ eyes glided over to the headline- “Son of the Lord And Lady of Doncaster Reported Missing”. He read about how his family and the people of Doncaster were all looking for him, how the local police started an investigation, but so far it had seemed that he’d vanished off the face of the earth, with no clue as to where he could have gone or been taken to. Louis could feel the panic building in his chest as he read over the words until he got to where the article ended with a plea for anyone in the UK who could, to assist in looking for him. He couldn’t deny he felt bad for his family, and the amount of stress they must be going through because of him, but he couldn’t dwell on that, seeing as how he had a furious looking curly haired lad standing by his desk.

He opened his mouth to tell Harry that it wasn’t what it looked like, but what came out instead was, “Where did you get this?”

“We have family in the UK, they sometimes send over the newspapers if anything is interesting,” Harry explained in a tone that tried to contain his anger, but came out strained, “Granted, this is at least a month old. My mom had been reading this and asked me if the picture looked familiar.”

“What makes you think this isn’t just some guy who’s happened to look like me?” Louis asked carefully.

“C’mon, Will, I’m not an idiot. I have eyes.” Harry said. “And you said you were from the same part of the UK as they’re talking about, and… Look, I want to believe this isn’t you in the picture, but I’m sorry, I cannot. You’re gonna have to either prove it or explain yourself.”

Louis sighed, standing up and brushing the side of his finger under his nose, picking up the first trickles of nervous sweat. “Alright, that’s fair. I suppose this was bound to catch up to me at some point,” he received a questioning look from Harry at that and swallowed before he continued, “that is me, in the photograph. William is not my first name, it is my middle name. My real full name is Louis William Tomlinson.”

“Like the Lord and Lady’s son,” Harry concluded with a curt nod.

“Yes.” Louis sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I know this is wrong, but I couldn’t stand my life back home. I felt locked up, I was always stressed, everyone was expecting so much from me and I… I just wanted one summer, just one, where I could go to the beach whenever I felt like it, and no one would know my name or my face, and my family wouldn’t keep nagging me with all the responsibilities I have, and I could just lay in the sun and not think about anything, not worry about what people would think of the heir to the Lord of Doncaster slacking off, and doing so among the middle and lower-class people. I needed to get away but I had no way how, unless… if I was to fake my death. After doing that, I couldn’t possibly use the same name here, not while I only have this fake passport with a fake name because I couldn’t possibly use my real passport or there might be a track of where I’ve been. I had to adopt the name on my passport. I had to lie. I’m sorry.”

Harry seemed to stand in the same spot, in silence, arms crossed over his chest, for at least one eternity. When he finally unfroze, he nodded his head once before leaving the room, without a word. Once he was gone, Louis fell face-down on his bed with a dramatic groan. He lifted his face only to hide it in his hands, mumbling into them, “great going, Tomlinson, you’ve just gone and wrecked everything.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several days passed in which Harry didn’t even bother to acknowledge Louis. Instead of teaming up with Louis on every job that needed to be done around the motel, as they had grown used to doing, Harry took completely different jobs, seemingly trying to avoid Louis to the best of his ability. For the most part, Louis was tasked with different cleaning chores, while Harry either busied himself in the kitchen or at the bar, or he would be sent to pick up anything his parents asked.

Louis was constantly on edge during those days, but he was grateful. The day after Harry confronted him, he talked to Anne and Robin and came clean. They didn’t seem to appreciate the way he went about the entire thing, but they didn’t fire him. So Louis felt the most alone he had since he left Doncaster, but he couldn’t complain. None of the other employees would talk to him, Anne and Robin were cold and strictly professional, and Harry wouldn’t spare him a glance, but at least he wasn’t kicked out. At least he still had a job, three meals a day, a bed and a roof over his head. This could all have been easily taken away from him, and he’d be left to try and survive on his own, a former socialite, with not enough money for a place to stay, in a town he still doesn’t know that well.

At times, like when he was alone in his bed at night, wishing he had Harry to hold on to in order to keep himself from floating away on an endless stream of thoughts, all of which like poisonous arrows coated in guilt and self-hatred that were aimed directly at his heart, Louis pondered what was worse, his time back home, or this isolation that he brought upon himself here.

On the one hand, at least back home he knew almost everything and everyone in his close vicinity. If he had a clash with anyone, which he did every now and again, he still had other people to turn to. He had cut people off and been cut off himself, but even at times where he felt the most alone, there were places he could escape to, and eventually, things were fine.

Here in Auckland, he didn’t know that many people, still. Back home, he had several different opportunities over the course of his life, to meet new people and make new friends. Here, however, the only constant he had was the motel, with nothing extra that was continuous enough to allow him to form actual connections with new people.

His only friends were at the motel, and they had turned their backs on him. His only true friend was Harry, and he had managed to lose him as well. He was penniless and alone in a city that made him feel like he was the only person in monochrome, while everyone around him was in colour.

Despite knowing his stay here was most likely temporary, Louis couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever get to feel like he fits in with this place.

On the other hand, his life at home had grown miserable. He constantly had too much of everything that he disliked- such as work, responsibilities, stress and cold, gray weather, and not enough of the things he felt that he needed- freedom, relaxation, and sunshine. Those were the things he came here for, and maybe he could still have that. He didn’t need friends or a lover to fulfil the goals he had for his time in New Zealand. Those things were never on his list, to begin with.

He had never planned on catching feelings for anyone during his time here. He never meant to get attached to anything or anyone, because attachment came with responsibility, and he’s had enough of that. Responsibilities weighed him down and held him back, and so would growing attached to a thing, a place or a person. Not to mention it was bound to make it so much harder for him to leave when the time came.

However, his connection with Harry proved to be stronger than the plans he’d made before he arrived, and, so far, it never did hold him back from doing the things he initially had planned; he’d never had to give up visiting places that he’d wanted to see, especially ever since he and Harry seemed to actually grow close and Harry was suddenly all about making Louis happy.

But what amazed Louis even more, was that his relationship with the dimple-cheeked lad had never, for even a moment, compromised the feeling of freedom that he arrived in search of. Despite having to keep their relationship a secret from virtually everyone around them, not only did Louis not feel cooped up and held back when his lover demanded his time, but the times that he spent by Harry’s side, were actually those in which he felt the freest he’d ever had.

Turning over in his bed yet again, Louis realized with a sigh of frustration, that he would not come to a conclusion on the matter. After all, he had broken the trust of both his closest friend in this country which he was completely foreign to and of his family back home, and he didn’t know if he would be able to mend either.

Maybe he was destined to ruin everything until he was left completely alone, over and over again to the end of his days. He gave in to that thought as tears fell onto his pillow until eventually, he fell asleep.

About two weeks or so after Harry found out about him, the curly-haired lad showed up at Louis’ door again.

“May I help you?” Louis asked, too scared to lift his eyes from his book and meet Harry’s.

“You wanted to go to the beach?” At that, Louis’ eyes snapped up to Harry’s face. He wasn’t expecting those words to come out of his mouth right then.

“Uh…”

“Get ready. I’m leaving in fifteen and I won’t be waiting for you.”

The door closed behind his tall frame.

Louis stared at the closed door in shock for a few seconds, until he realized he had to get ready if he didn’t wanna miss the opportunity Harry gave him.

How he wanted to go to the beach again. He hadn’t been since he started working for Anne and Robin at the motel, and he seriously missed it. He missed the feeling of happiness and tranquility it brought him, the soothing feeling of the sun on every inch of bare skin, the warm sand, and the unique mix of scents of saltwater and sun cream.

When he and Harry became especially close after running into each other at the bar, Louis couldn’t get the idea out of his head; of taking Harry for a picnic on the beach, spending the day there from the moment the sun was high enough in the sky, talking and eating fruit and playing beach games, until it was time to settle down and watch the sunset, and then they could leave. 

He wanted it to be special, to make it the closest thing to a proper first date he could give Harry while being outdoors. He’d been planning it, waiting for the perfect day, but then the newspaper arrived and ruined everything.

Louis couldn’t help but wonder what had gotten into Harry that would make him invite Louis out to the beach after not speaking to him for nearly two weeks. Nevertheless, he was ready to leave in under fifteen minutes, and when Harry was back at his once-again-open door, he gave him a once-over before turning away and heading out. Louis took that as a sign to join him, and so he followed Harry to the car.

They spent the entire car ride to the beach in silence. Once they arrived, they got out of the car and walked towards the beach in their two-piece swimming suits. They strolled around for a while without exchanging so much as a glance, Louis waiting tensely to see if Harry would speak to him.

Eventually, they came to a halt. They stopped a few steps from the shore, just a little before the part where the sand was wet from the waves washing over it so that they were still standing in the warm, soft sand. Louis watched as Harry crouched down, and as he gathered a fistful of sand only to let it fall from the bottom of his fist. The entire time, Louis was stood behind him in silence.

“I’ve known I was different my entire life,” Louis was unsure if Harry was really speaking those words. “I never knew exactly why, but I felt it. I can’t even begin to tell you all the names I’ve been called for having a large group of female friends in school, or for taking theatre… or just for being the way that I am. I’ve tried to brush it off a thousand times. During the war, we would get telegrams and newspapers from England, and I wished I was old enough so that I didn’t owe anything to my parents and then I could just go and fight in the war and come back home with proof that I was just as much of a man as the other lads around me. But I was just a kid.”

Louis hummed. At this point, Harry was no longer crouching, but on his knees in the sand, watching the waves lap at the shore. And Louis was watching him.

“I don’t feel like I missed out. I realize now what I’d be putting my family through if I went. But I still never feel normal. Not unless I’m around Liam and Zayn, they make me feel like there’s nothing wrong with the way that I am. Granted, I’ve met them after I realized what was making me feel out of place. But it’s so hard because I hardly ever see them. I hang out with Niall more, I’m around my parents and Gemma, and they don’t know. They’ll never know. I’ve heard how my father talks, I’m terrified of what could happen to me if he were to find out.”

Harry stood up and turned around to face Louis. His face was flushed and tear-streaked, brow furrowed.

“It’s so stressful, being someone you’re not. I always have to watch what I say, how I act. My life would be over if my family knew the company in which I spend my time. They would disown me even if they only got the impression that we have a connection like we did. They’d do worse if they knew half of what I felt whenever you held me.”

While Harry’s hands rose to wipe under his eyes using the backs of his hands, Louis dwelled on the ache in his chest. He couldn’t tell whether it was because he sympathized with Harry and it hurt him to see him this way because of how much he cared for him, or because he was hurt that Harry referred to their connection as a thing of the past. Maybe a little bit of both.

“But I know they love me. I know they only want what they think is best for me. They probably think I can change this, I can choose to feel differently... I’ve tried. I still try. I wanted to go away, I’ve thought of disappearing a million times. Just taking my stuff and leaving, going somewhere where they can’t find me and sorting myself out there until I can truly be the son they see, and not just act the part.”

Finally, Louis was beginning to understand what Harry’s point was.

“But I can’t. I have a life here, a job, a commitment to my family. As much as I sometimes want to, I can’t just leave. It would kill me every day to think about how my parents would feel if I left without a word. How worried and scared they would be. You have way bigger responsibilities than I do, but also a better life. I can’t even begin to understand how you were capable of leaving it all behind.”

After a few moments of silence, Louis realized that Harry was either finished or waiting for his response.

“I get what you’re saying,” he started, “I understand how you feel because I’ve felt that way too, all the time. If anyone knew this about me, son of the Lord and Lady, my entire family would go through hell. They would all pay the price for something that I didn’t contain as well as I should have. I couldn’t put them through that.

“But that’s not all. You’re right, I do have a lot of responsibilities back home. So many that it was smothering. I just don’t think I was made for that life. I had to take a break, just so I have something to compare that life to, so I might be able to tell what is right for me.”

“Were you planning on ever going back?” Harry asked. “What would you have said to them if you went back?”

“I didn’t entirely think about that,” Louis admitted sheepishly, “I suppose if I went back home I would either tell them the truth and face the consequences, or… I would let them believe I was kidnapped, perhaps. But I reckoned I would figure this out if I were to ever go back. To be frank, I thought I would go home after a summer or so here, but ever since I started catching feelings for you, I thought that maybe I could stay. It would take such a weight off my shoulders, and I could be with you.”

Harry shook his head. “Louis… how could we ever be together? I’m going to have to start my own life someday, marry a woman, have a family of my own. If this is anything, all it can be is a secret that one day we’ll both have to walk away from.”

“Does it have to be?” Louis asked, almost sounding desperate. “Maybe someday things will change. Look at the women, the world is growing more liberal, maybe it could happen for us too someday.”

Harry shook his head with a look that made it clear that he didn’t believe that was possible.

“However, if what you say is really all this is, then so be it. If we can spend our time together, the way we did so far, at least for the time being, then I promise you that the day you want out so you can make yourself the life you plan on having, I will give you no trouble, and I will be on the first ship back home. I’ll go back to the life I was assigned, and leave you to yours.”

Harry’s eyes, shining with fresh tears, searched Louis’ eyes. He shook his head again.

“I still cannot believe you lied to me for so long about something so… fundamental.”

“I’m sorry.” Louis pleaded, striding towards Harry. “I really am. I’m sorry.” He cupped Harry’s cheek. “I love you.”

A few tears fell from Harry’s eyes and he leaned into Louis' touch, only for a split second, before he caught himself and pulled away. They stood in silence for a while longer, Harry staring at his feet with Louis’ eyes still on him, pleading.

Eventually, Harry’s shoulders sagged, and he turned, throwing Louis a “come” as he began walking. Louis followed him into a small nook where no one could see them, where Harry turned to face him again.

Before Louis knew what was happening, Harry closed the distance between them, cupped his face with both hands, and pressed his lips against Louis’. Louis inhaled sharply through his nose, but wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and kissed back. They kissed for a while, and Louis could occasionally taste Harry’s tears or feel a grain of sand that must’ve stuck to Harry’s hands, falling into his mouth, but nothing mattered, because he’s never felt more whole than in this very moment, holding Harry and kissing him, sea air in his lungs and the warm sun on his skin.

“Does that mean you love me too?” Louis chuckled teasingly when they broke off to breathe. Harry’s response was a breathy “shut up” before he lunged at Louis yet again, moving forward until Louis’ back hit something rough.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night Harry snuck into Louis’ room to get in his bed. They stayed up for hours just talking. Louis promised he would come clean to Niall, Zayn, and Liam as well, and Harry promised he’d get things at the motel back the way they were, and make sure no one is upset with Louis anymore.

Harry also made Louis tell him plenty of stories from his real life as a socialite in the UK, and Louis happily obliged, reminiscing as he went and ignoring the pang of longing in his chest, pulling Harry closer to comfort himself. After they were done talking, they kissed some more.

“Maybe in another life…” Harry started when they broke off, eyes absentmindedly following the motion of Louis’ tongue darting out across his lips. 

Louis just smiled small. “We don’t have to think about that right now. As long as we’re together, the sun will always shine. I’ll never feel cold again if I have you. We’ll be as free as the ocean waves and the birds in our own little world. As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”

Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”

With that, Harry laid his head on Louis’ chest. Louis held him close, pushing away every thought of the near and far future. He decided they were going to live in the moment and enjoy it, he had to seize every second of his summer. He had to seize every second with Harry.


End file.
